


"Who would Sherlock bother protecting?"

by notjustmom



Series: What if... [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, Gen, Missing Scene, Mrs. Hudson is Sherlock's parental figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:17:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: I was inspired to write this after a long 'conversation' with a fellow Sherlockian, about the things we wanted most from Sherlock's return in Season 3. The title of course, is a quote from HLV, as somehow, John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson still appear to be clueless as to who Sherlock would protect.Essentially, this is a 'what would happen if Mrs. Hudson caught Sherlock putting John's chair back after he leaves hospital and all but admits what happened to him when he was away.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almosttomorocco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosttomorocco/gifts).

“Sherlock? Oh, dear, what are you doing out of hospital? John said -” She pushed her way into the flat and stopped short as she watched him nudge John’s chair back into place with his knee, then wearily fall into it.

“Hudders. Not now.”

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“Mary shot me.”

“Wha-?”

“Don’t make me say it again. He’s going to need a place to stay after - and you aren’t to blame him. It wasn’t his fault -”

“The hell it wasn’t. I knew there was something I didn’t like about her - a nurse, my arse -” She stopped as she looked into his eyes and finally saw a truth she had denied for too long. “Sherlock?”

“Hmm.”

“When you - left - I was always afraid - I mean - I just assumed, it was -”

Sherlock groaned as he shifted in the overstuffed chair, then whispered, “he gave me a choice, Martha. If I hadn’t jumped, there were snipers on you and Greg and John. Not much of a choice, he always thought we were the same. And in many ways, we are - we were, except I had people I cared for, and that was my weakness and my strength. He had recognized that long before I knew it, really. He had employees, I have, or rather, I had a family. I have things I need to do, Hudders. Just promise me -” He got to his feet and swayed a bit before he steadied himself on the back of John’s chair. “Promise me, you’ll never tell him.”

“Sherlock -”

“Hudders. Please?”

“When you were away -”

“I can’t, don’t ask me to tell you, just know, at first it was fun, in a way, and then it wasn’t, I missed John, and you, and even Donovan after a while. I wanted to come home, but I wasn’t done. And by the time it was finished it was too late, and even if -” He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile through the pain. “Just make sure he answers the phone when I call, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.”

“Yeah, Hudders, so am I. So am I. Not for what I did, just how I did it. I know I hurt a bunch of people that I didn’t mean to hurt when I left the way I did, but I couldn’t see another way, and now - now, it doesn’t matter. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late, Sherlock, until it’s too late.”

Sherlock managed a quiet chuckle, then kissed her cheek. “You always were the romantic, weren’t you, Hudders. Even if he forgives me for leaving him, and for Mary - he won’t - he will never believe that I did what I did to keep him safe, and even if he does -. Ah. Almost forgot.” He pulled a bottle of Clair De La Lune perfume from his pocket and placed it on the table next to John’s chair. “Should be enough for him to go on, hmm? Don’t worry too much, I’m basically indestructible. Here’s his phone, just make sure you can hear it, I’ll call him in about twenty minutes.”

“Sherlock -”

“Hudders.” He sighed and shook his head sadly.

“Thank you.”

“You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep my family safe.”

“I know, love.”

She shook her head as he disappeared down the stairs slowly, and after she heard the street door bang closed, she walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up the skull. “I hope he knows what he’s doing, the poor boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as requested by PatPrecieux <3

“Mrs. Hudson?”

She looks up from her stories and mutes the telly as John drops into the chair across from her.

“What isn’t he telling me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Dr. Watson.” She unmutes the sound and tries to look bored in his direction, but can’t let this go on any further, and lowers the volume just a bit. “John. Did you ever think about what might have happened to him when he was away?”

John looks away from her and gazes at his hands, and nods after a moment. “Yeah. I’ve - he won’t let me help him with the bandage. Something happened to him. Something I can’t even begin to think about.” He shakes his head, then runs his fingers through his hair. “I know you didn’t understand why I married her. Even when -”

She wants to finish the sentence for him, but to be honest, isn’t precisely sure what he’s going to say, and whatever it is, he needs to say it for himself, so she gets up from her chair, turns the telly off, and waits for him to go on.

“I married her because I was an arse. It was easier to marry her than to admit that I had, have, feelings for him, and yeah…” He groans as he gets up from the depths of the chair, and paces in front of her before he can finally spit the words out. “I was furious with him for leaving me. Just when I - just when I had figured myself out. I mean -” He stops and finally faces her with a shrug. “I mean you knew the moment I came to see the flat. You knew how he, and I - I wasn’t ready, Mrs. Hudson, and when I was, he jumped, right in front of me and for the longest time I thought it was my fault, that I didn’t say the right words to make him want to stay - with me.”

She stands in front of him, stopping any further movement with a gentle hand on his chest. “John. My idiot boys. Go upstairs and talk to him. Now.”

“But -”

“It’s never too late until it’s too late. How many more chances do you think you’re going to have, John?”

He blinks at her, then shakes his head as if he’s finally understood something he should have known long ago, and kisses her forehead before he charges back up the seventeen steps, taking them two at a time. He can’t get back to the flat, back to Sherlock fast enough.

He stops short as he finds Sherlock standing at the window. "You should be in bed."

"I've been in bed for a week."

"Yeah, after you died on me twice. Or nearly died twice. Please, at least let me make up the couch for you, if you won't go back to bed."

"What do you want, John?"

"I've been an idiot." He waits for him to ask which time, but Sherlock doesn't turn to face him, and John has never seen him so still, not since - "I should have told you."

"Told me, what?" Sherlock whispers as he presses his forehead against the window and waits.

"That I love you."

"What did she tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything. Except that I've been an idiot, and that I needed to talk to you. And she's right. She's always right."

Sherlock finally makes a move, but it isn't what John expected. He carefully removes the lightweight robe and lets it fall from his fingers. They both freeze, each afraid to make the first sound, or take the first step. Finally, John strides across the room and gingerly lays his hands on Sherlock's hips as he whispers, "I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I'm sorry I didn't know. I should have, and I didn't. Please forgive me?"

"What could I possibly have to forgive you for, John?" Sherlock's shattered voice comes to a halt when John begins to kiss the scars that crisscross his back, one by one, and he wonders if he's in the middle of the best dream of his life or stuck in his worst nightmare. "John?"

"Let me come home, Sherlock, let me come back to you?"

"John."

"Please, Sherlock. I - my heart, from the day we met, has always been yours. But I was afraid, and when you left, I didn't think - I knew I would never feel the same about anyone - I'm so sorry, Sherlock, for hurting you." Sherlock finally turns to face him, and John kisses away the tears that are streaming down the sharp cheekbones.

"Can it be this easy, John?"

"Just tell me what you want, Sherlock. If it's not too late, just tell me it's not too late."

Sherlock shakes his head and whispers, "I love you, too, John Watson. Always have. From the moment you walked into the lab. I left - I left you because it was the only way to keep you safe. I never wanted to leave you, if there had been any other way -"

John nods as he smiles gently at him, and his lips delete whatever he was going to say next."Do me one favor, Sherlock, get your lovely arse in the effing bed. Please?"

"Yes, John."


End file.
